hullo? is there anybody there? ...no, huh? sigh. thought not. Well, this is not a good feeling. what's wrong with me?? if you're there, please tell me ok? be brutal! be totally honest! i swear i can take it! (right. or just click "like" on the goddang post...)

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a smattering of some utterly infinitesimal imago:

Hi There, I’m abby :)
…and I dabble in drawing, photography, and conglomerations of the two. i like art that shows its fingerprints; some lingering trace of the soul who created it (this "trace" would smell of pine needles, preferably. Or of a match, right-after after its been struck).
i love the way art can often bridge the gap of pleasantries and personna and politeness, to meet at a point where two souls can just sit quietly and reach an intuitive understanding.
Whatever this is, this Soul-Speak (so-to-speak. ha.) it is utterly crucial to this emotive, all-too-human empathic language of art, which is something much older, and much wiser hiding secretly inside all of us. We've mostly lost touch with-it, but there's a certain kind of silence that draws-forth our tentative visions out from the shadowy-netherrealms of our subconscious, and into the illuminated theatre of our mind's interior. Art has the capacity to capture and translate what we can only glimpse or guess-at through our mind's eye.
....so that's one very long-winded way of looking at it. Mainly that was just me, being wordy and tangential. My Stream-of-Unconscious-Gobiligook.
Point being: it's all a matter of how you see things, and what you feel is the best way you can express something deeply and honestly. And while I've seen so-much digitally created art that has taken my breath away ( i marvel at the artist who can look into that boundless techno-void of infinite creative possibility and bring that dream into the light of actual reality...)
Because our current technology is pretty powerful stuff-
pretty powerful, as in "ANYbody, even YOU- possess the power to become magical-God-like-omnipotent-creator-of-virtual-realities-from-pure-visionary-techno-void...
All that's required is some basic computer Know-How and the requisite digital dexterity in-order to press that 'click' button!
But...speaking personally, all this "basic" tech stuff that My generation is expected to have an innate understanding of, or at least the innate potential for understanding, or (at the very least) the intellectual hubris necessary to reassure myself that, while theoretically i totally have all the intuitive and intellectual hutzpah necessary to Develop a deep, nuanced understanding of ALL this technological hooey if i WANTed to, the truth is that i DON'T; And so, i don't.
instead, i choose to fill my head with whatever i find interesting, i.e. Legends, myths, and figures of ancient Icelandic lore, apt metaphors and poetic similies that parallel the plight of moths, Rhymes and imagery relating to the moon, the various meanings and symbolism of all embodiments of lumiere; including but not limited to emanation, reflection, invocation, obfuscation and projection thereof, other symbolic light-related Questions such-as, implications of what it really means to be the kind of thing known to have a particular propensity and/or the inclination to "shine," versus the very different sort of thing known for being inherently bestowed with that coveted capacity to emanate from within, i.e. To "glow." (This is all important stuff, people)
I also think a lot about eyeshine- if humans had this optical prismatic refractive iridescence of various illuminal colors in light, so common a trait in our nocturnal nuisances of the nighttime, those ne'er do well critters of eyebright scuttling shadows and strange otherworldly howlings- and so my question, regarding these particulars of eyeshine as stated above, basically is as-follows:
if we humans had the same glow in the dark eyes as do the majority of these largely unwelcome nocturnal ne'er dowel neighbors, would we be utterly and totally, irrevocably scarred for life by the sheer horrifying sight of one another, night after night?
I think about other things as well- like, where did all the phonebooths go? Are they all sitting in a giant hole in the middle of Nevada somewhere? Bc i'd really be interested in seeing that... Other thoughts too.
Which is why, this website (just for-example) makes no sense, why the "menu" frequently takes you to pages that just say "oops!" Followed by the helpful suggestion that you try the handy 'Search' box.
So. What am i saying, exactly?
What i'm saying is, perhaps, more-like a bunch of questions:
Like, would i feel less lonely, and probably much less angry, if i somehow tried to express my genuine feelings about life & my place within it through some other vehicle besides humorous, faux-lighthearted self-deprecation? Like, could i possibly help myself By being honest about the gravity and extreme intensity of my own self-loathing, my unspeakable feelings of unconquerable loneliness, my whole lifetime of unsucessful, desperate attempts to overcome (or at-least come to terms with) this increasingly unbearable, ever-more inexplicable & at-last hopelessly incommunicable despair turned depression turned absolute and utter flatlined apathy,
instead of just listening to the sound of my own silent scream, reverberating inside my head?
was that last question super-intense and uncomfortable?
Even Assuming that your level of intensity/discomfort was probably say, fairly high, like, you're still alive, right?
What is-it about 'feeling awkward' that seems increasingly to be like that one emotion we will do absolutely anything to avoid feeling?
Random trivia question: what's the difference between empathy and sympathy?
Do you think that maybe we've all conveniently sorta just forgotten the answer?
ALSO, what happened to all the phone-booths? Where are they hiding? Why all the secrecy? Why can't we know? What aren't they telling us?
Also, how does one differentiate between, say, the DNS records of this website, and a bunch of utterly inexplicable nonsense that may as well be an ancient series of hieroglyphics transmitted to me By space aliens?
Also! Lastly, in consideration of the above admission, in which i reveal a total and complete and obvious utter lack of even The most basic level of techno-internet-code-based knowledge,
WHY (seriously) WHY, i ask you, internet- are you STILL letting-me FIDDLE with this stuff?
Because, as i know you know by now, i canNOT NOT fiddle.
And i swear- bc I've done it before, and so ohh...yes, i WILL do it again. I will take those DNS codes, and those IP addresses and the SRV thingys and IPv6 whatsadoos and CNAME hullabaloo & the FTP to the SSL to the SEO buncha-hooey and i WILL repeatedly, relentlessly, and irrevocably just F*k that s@*t up.
Like This One time? i was on my phone, fussing about with these very things, when suddenly, i heard this soft little sound... like a tiny baby, blowing-out a birthday candle. Like a "puff..." And THEN? my iphone literally impoded. (Also, my website vanished, but that happens literally ALL. The time, so) anyway.
True Story.
...and THAT my friends, is The Babe with the power...
What Power?
Why, The power of voodoo.
Who do? You Do???
What- No...
YOU do...Voodoo?
stop.
Then Who?-
No... absolutely not.
wait, has this gotten confusing,
Yes? Well then, let me clarify: ok So "voodoo," in this case, refers to the magical ability to create digital artistic masterpieces using a basic knowledge of... whatever it is- photoshop/lightroom/FinalcutPro etc, with some equally-basic computer skills, combined with a positive attitude, willingness to learn, and ultimately, patience).
and to all these ridiculous qualities, i simply say, “HA."
I have none of these silly qualities. Nor am i willing to learn them. So there.
Truthfully, it’s because computers, and techno-babble, and staring, slack-jawed and cow-eyed into a bright little flickering migraine/possible death-box,
hour after hour, day after day,
…just (speaking personally) is not-so-great for inspiring artistic-flow,
but instead, makes me want to crawl into a hole, and die.
Ergo, no computers!
My approach is manual, old fashioned; i've always been a nostalgic sort of person, i guess. Also, photoshop makes me want to cry. Not so with Scotch-tape & glue. Maybe it's as simple as that. Perhaps our personal style and capacity for creative expression is just like so many other "Greater" things in life - it all begins with the tiniest, most random and seemingly inconsequential aspects of our own character and brand of personal ridiculousness ( my personal example being: a visceral/visual aversion to staring at computer screens).
My legitimate reason is that i have a pretty-epic, seemingly evil and relentless case of chronic lyme-disease
(side note: and please Pardon my paranoia/ legitimate sensitivity regarding the aforementioned topic, but YES!! For the Love of God, chronic Lyme is a Very Real and often very debilitating disease. Lastly: Really?!... REALLY?!!?)
ahem... which gives me seizures.
I could leave-it at that. But i could also just keep-going, and that's more my style.
So, again we circle-back to the concluding: no computers.
Instead, an affinity towards all the friendly little inanimate creative mediums- those that give me no cause to wonder whether i might be mentally-challenged.
So thank-you scotch tape.
Bless-you, scissors.
I love you, unconscionably toxic and fun-smelling glue.
Paper, you rock.
A big shout-out to my black Bic-pens (NO substitutes) Holla-back y'all!
. . .
Ok. Don't holler...whatever.
...there's Other stuff too.
So that's my story. although "story" might be a strong-word. That's my Tangent. Thought-Glob. Word-Spillage. Epileptic Hullabaloo. Synaptic Ballyhoo. my face was resting on the keyboard and this is what-it wrote. So actually, what you just read was a G*d damn miracle. Perhaps this seemingly impossible display of forehead-to-keyboard typed happenstance coherency was a predestined act of synchronicity conjured just for you by Kaos itself; a serendipitous miracle sent as proof of the existence of some higher logic; a greater purpose being carried out by some unknown, omnipotent presence, whose seemingly random choices are all part of a much grander & intricately nuanced cosmic narrative that hides the truth of divine intent inside an illusory ruse of apparent chaos perceived as the arbitrary unconscious void that hovers senselessly above our totally random universe. Think of All that cosmic hoodwinkery... And that was just With MY FACE.
Ok. No- What i'm trying to say is...
yes, i admit- this got a bit unfocused, towards the end there. My writing tends to be both illustrious and tangential...which is never a good combination.
This is the critical moment when i absolutely Must. simply. stop. writing. Before things seriously start to unravel.
So.
this is it. "The End," is starting (which may sound like a contradiction..semantically speaking. Worry not; all will come together shortly)
Wait for it...
...Look! you did it!
You're done!
So. Thank-you all, whoever you are, which is perhaps a precious few But quite possibly no-one; ideally, i hope this goes-out to just one, similarly hearted, singularly unique and utterly lovely Somebody.
To that one unlikely body, seriously,
'thanks' buddy :)
OkSothank-you,Bye&TheEnd!
Also, Sorry if this was weird...
* •*.. abby*•.*

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Recent Posts: abby's art and ramblings *•.* i close my eyes so i can see...

“Tapetum Lucidem,” literally meaning “Bright Tapestry,” is the technical latin term used to describe the phenomenon more commonly known as “Eye-Shine.” This is the reflective layer that exists behind the iris of certain (mainly nocturnal?) animals that absorbs and refracts sources of external light, thus affording these creatures with the necessary trait/enviable superpower of night […]

i am OUT: Off in-search of a longlost kingdom i’d once called Elsewhere… so leave a message, i’ll Be Back Later. oh hi there. abby here. me, doing what i do best: trampsing through the forest in long effluvious dresses like some sort-of Marie Antoinette-esque faux Bohemian will-o-the-wisp-ish Nietzschian Dionysian desperate hipster. but really, i’m […]

plus i really meant a lot of what i wrote when i wrote it, and i’m sure i still do. so, i figured maybe someone else might catch a glimpse of some shiny fragment, some glint of meaning somewhere in this wreckage too…maybe? who knows? (shrug) okbye.:) It Is There- just beyond the static of […]

​​ Sometimes, i’ll be driving along the highway, and suddenly it’s all i can do to resist the urge to just give-in, to pull over and leap from my car, as i run madly and wildly plunge into the nearby jungle, as i thrash and hack my way deep into the forest, where i’d start […]

https://videopress.com/v/aiym9CaP Oh tell me lost and lovely spark, now that you’ve gone to be amongst the moon and all the stars, are you lighter, is it brighter…up there in the dark? Please Press Play: (Source: https://videopress.com/)

we’re never more illuminated, cast in brilliant light, then when we burn in beauty- beating back the black till dawn appears in sight. Leave this field of bone-white ash & cimmerian cinder pyres; For our darkest nights ignite the soul, as some re-kindling of fire.

Recent Posts: Mind's Eye, Magnified. *•*. close your eyes so you can see...*•.*

“what i want in this life is a willingness to be dazzled. to cast aside the weight of facts, and maybe, perhaps- to float, just slightly above this difficult world.” (just a few utterly lovely lines of poetry, written by the one and only, inordinately extraordinary Mary Oliver) anyhoo: hi. i’m abby. that’s me. right … Continue reading psst! it’s me, abby. hi!

Drat. i’ve definitely lost my edge. It might very-well be permanent. At best, it’s by far the longest creative dry-spell i have ever been through. Usually, art is something i do because i feel intensely compelled to do it- there’s an urgency to it, a frantic necessity to be inhabited by whatever more intensely charged … Continue reading We Are All Kings and Queens of Our Own Soul-Sized Kingdoms

artwork by abigail allen- come inside to explore the visual landscapes of my mind’s eye’s interior. The Ancient Greeks had a great word, “Eidolon,” which means both ‘soul’ AND also, ‘image.’ For The Greeks, these two words were utterly interchangeable. For modern day Americans, not-so-much. I love this word, Eidolon…and if i were a Bell, chiming-away in some Paris Cathedral,
or a bi-curious wood-elf, or an imaginary kingdom, or a star, a unicorn, or a new color! (definitely like a mist-gray, but gossamer-shimmery, like the best figure-skating costume EVER…oh, sorry- did i lose ya there? Yeah- i was a big-time figure skater for a decade of my misspent youth. It was, in a word: Horror.
But my point: if i were an elf, a bell, a color, star, unicorn, enchanted kingdom or “classy” shimmery lycra figure skating costume, i’d drop the whole “abby” act like a bad-habit and change my name to “Eidolon” immediately. But, more than its aural loveliness, it expresses something about who-we-are today, very clearly, to the mind. My art wants nothing to do with the mind, or “knowing.” What i DO want, is to make art that needs only be FROM my heart in-order to ensure it gets deposited into another, in-a-way that makes us feel like our pain and sorrow are simultaneously utterly justifiable, and also, no- we are NOT unique. If ANYthing, we are all, ALL-too Human…Exploring the Visual language of the soul, as conjured within the landscapes we explore through our mind’s eye. This is where wisdom roams like a wild beast through a dazzling darkness. If we really listen, we can hear its heart-beating, just beneath the surface. Mind’s Eye drawings, photos, etc., by Abigail Allen. what does it take to believe in what we can’t prove? Does the soul yearn for what we lost, for that capacity for Wonder?

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Hi There, I’m abby :)
…and I dabble in drawing, photography, and conglomerations of the two. i like art that shows its fingerprints; some lingering trace of the soul who created it (this "trace" would smell of pine needles, preferably. Or of a match, right-after after its been struck).
i love the way art can often bridge the gap of pleasantries and personna and politeness, to meet at a point where two souls can just sit quietly and reach an intuitive understanding.
Whatever this is, this Soul-Speak (so-to-speak. ha.) it is utterly crucial to this emotive, all-too-human empathic language of art, which is something much older, and much wiser hiding secretly inside all of us. We've mostly lost touch with-it, but there's a certain kind of silence that draws-forth our tentative visions out from the shadowy-netherrealms of our subconscious, and into the illuminated theatre of our mind's interior. Art has the capacity to capture and translate what we can only glimpse or guess-at through our mind's eye.
....so that's one very long-winded way of looking at it. Mainly that was just me, being wordy and tangential. My Stream-of-Unconscious-Gobiligook.
Point being: it's all a matter of how you see things, and what you feel is the best way you can express something deeply and honestly. And while I've seen so-much digitally created art that has taken my breath away ( i marvel at the artist who can look into that boundless techno-void of infinite creative possibility and bring that dream into the light of actual reality...)
Because our current technology is pretty powerful stuff-
pretty powerful, as in "ANYbody, even YOU- possess the power to become magical-God-like-omnipotent-creator-of-virtual-realities-from-pure-visionary-techno-void...
All that's required is some basic computer Know-How and the requisite digital dexterity in-order to press that 'click' button!
But...speaking personally, all this "basic" tech stuff that My generation is expected to have an innate understanding of, or at least the innate potential for understanding, or (at the very least) the intellectual hubris necessary to reassure myself that, while theoretically i totally have all the intuitive and intellectual hutzpah necessary to Develop a deep, nuanced understanding of ALL this technological hooey if i WANTed to, the truth is that i DON'T; And so, i don't.
instead, i choose to fill my head with whatever i find interesting, i.e. Legends, myths, and figures of ancient Icelandic lore, apt metaphors and poetic similies that parallel the plight of moths, Rhymes and imagery relating to the moon, the various meanings and symbolism of all embodiments of lumiere; including but not limited to emanation, reflection, invocation, obfuscation and projection thereof, other symbolic light-related Questions such-as, implications of what it really means to be the kind of thing known to have a particular propensity and/or the inclination to "shine," versus the very different sort of thing known for being inherently bestowed with that coveted capacity to emanate from within, i.e. To "glow." (This is all important stuff, people)
I also think a lot about eyeshine- if humans had this optical prismatic refractive iridescence of various illuminal colors in light, so common a trait in our nocturnal nuisances of the nighttime, those ne'er do well critters of eyebright scuttling shadows and strange otherworldly howlings- and so my question, regarding these particulars of eyeshine as stated above, basically is as-follows:
if we humans had the same glow in the dark eyes as do the majority of these largely unwelcome nocturnal ne'er dowel neighbors, would we be utterly and totally, irrevocably scarred for life by the sheer horrifying sight of one another, night after night?
I think about other things as well- like, where did all the phonebooths go? Are they all sitting in a giant hole in the middle of Nevada somewhere? Bc i'd really be interested in seeing that... Other thoughts too.
Which is why, this website (just for-example) makes no sense, why the "menu" frequently takes you to pages that just say "oops!" Followed by the helpful suggestion that you try the handy 'Search' box.
So. What am i saying, exactly?
What i'm saying is, perhaps, more-like a bunch of questions:
Like, would i feel less lonely, and probably much less angry, if i somehow tried to express my genuine feelings about life & my place within it through some other vehicle besides humorous, faux-lighthearted self-deprecation? Like, could i possibly help myself By being honest about the gravity and extreme intensity of my own self-loathing, my unspeakable feelings of unconquerable loneliness, my whole lifetime of unsucessful, desperate attempts to overcome (or at-least come to terms with) this increasingly unbearable, ever-more inexplicable & at-last hopelessly incommunicable despair turned depression turned absolute and utter flatlined apathy,
instead of just listening to the sound of my own silent scream, reverberating inside my head?
was that last question super-intense and uncomfortable?
Even Assuming that your level of intensity/discomfort was probably say, fairly high, like, you're still alive, right?
What is-it about 'feeling awkward' that seems increasingly to be like that one emotion we will do absolutely anything to avoid feeling?
Random trivia question: what's the difference between empathy and sympathy?
Do you think that maybe we've all conveniently sorta just forgotten the answer?
ALSO, what happened to all the phone-booths? Where are they hiding? Why all the secrecy? Why can't we know? What aren't they telling us?
Also, how does one differentiate between, say, the DNS records of this website, and a bunch of utterly inexplicable nonsense that may as well be an ancient series of hieroglyphics transmitted to me By space aliens?
Also! Lastly, in consideration of the above admission, in which i reveal a total and complete and obvious utter lack of even The most basic level of techno-internet-code-based knowledge,
WHY (seriously) WHY, i ask you, internet- are you STILL letting-me FIDDLE with this stuff?
Because, as i know you know by now, i canNOT NOT fiddle.
And i swear- bc I've done it before, and so ohh...yes, i WILL do it again. I will take those DNS codes, and those IP addresses and the SRV thingys and IPv6 whatsadoos and CNAME hullabaloo & the FTP to the SSL to the SEO buncha-hooey and i WILL repeatedly, relentlessly, and irrevocably just F*k that s@*t up.
Like This One time? i was on my phone, fussing about with these very things, when suddenly, i heard this soft little sound... like a tiny baby, blowing-out a birthday candle. Like a "puff..." And THEN? my iphone literally impoded. (Also, my website vanished, but that happens literally ALL. The time, so) anyway.
True Story.
...and THAT my friends, is The Babe with the power...
What Power?
Why, The power of voodoo.
Who do? You Do???
What- No...
YOU do...Voodoo?
stop.
Then Who?-
No... absolutely not.
wait, has this gotten confusing,
Yes? Well then, let me clarify: ok So "voodoo," in this case, refers to the magical ability to create digital artistic masterpieces using a basic knowledge of... whatever it is- photoshop/lightroom/FinalcutPro etc, with some equally-basic computer skills, combined with a positive attitude, willingness to learn, and ultimately, patience).
and to all these ridiculous qualities, i simply say, “HA."
I have none of these silly qualities. Nor am i willing to learn them. So there.
Truthfully, it’s because computers, and techno-babble, and staring, slack-jawed and cow-eyed into a bright little flickering migraine/possible death-box,
hour after hour, day after day,
…just (speaking personally) is not-so-great for inspiring artistic-flow,
but instead, makes me want to crawl into a hole, and die.
Ergo, no computers!
My approach is manual, old fashioned; i've always been a nostalgic sort of person, i guess. Also, photoshop makes me want to cry. Not so with Scotch-tape & glue. Maybe it's as simple as that. Perhaps our personal style and capacity for creative expression is just like so many other "Greater" things in life - it all begins with the tiniest, most random and seemingly inconsequential aspects of our own character and brand of personal ridiculousness ( my personal example being: a visceral/visual aversion to staring at computer screens).
My legitimate reason is that i have a pretty-epic, seemingly evil and relentless case of chronic lyme-disease
(side note: and please Pardon my paranoia/ legitimate sensitivity regarding the aforementioned topic, but YES!! For the Love of God, chronic Lyme is a Very Real and often very debilitating disease. Lastly: Really?!... REALLY?!!?)
ahem... which gives me seizures.
I could leave-it at that. But i could also just keep-going, and that's more my style.
So, again we circle-back to the concluding: no computers.
Instead, an affinity towards all the friendly little inanimate creative mediums- those that give me no cause to wonder whether i might be mentally-challenged.
So thank-you scotch tape.
Bless-you, scissors.
I love you, unconscionably toxic and fun-smelling glue.
Paper, you rock.
A big shout-out to my black Bic-pens (NO substitutes) Holla-back y'all!
. . .
Ok. Don't holler...whatever.
...there's Other stuff too.
So that's my story. although "story" might be a strong-word. That's my Tangent. Thought-Glob. Word-Spillage. Epileptic Hullabaloo. Synaptic Ballyhoo. my face was resting on the keyboard and this is what-it wrote. So actually, what you just read was a G*d damn miracle. Perhaps this seemingly impossible display of forehead-to-keyboard typed happenstance coherency was a predestined act of synchronicity conjured just for you by Kaos itself; a serendipitous miracle sent as proof of the existence of some higher logic; a greater purpose being carried out by some unknown, omnipotent presence, whose seemingly random choices are all part of a much grander & intricately nuanced cosmic narrative that hides the truth of divine intent inside an illusory ruse of apparent chaos perceived as the arbitrary unconscious void that hovers senselessly above our totally random universe. Think of All that cosmic hoodwinkery... And that was just With MY FACE.
Ok. No- What i'm trying to say is...
yes, i admit- this got a bit unfocused, towards the end there. My writing tends to be both illustrious and tangential...which is never a good combination.
This is the critical moment when i absolutely Must. simply. stop. writing. Before things seriously start to unravel.
So.
this is it. "The End," is starting (which may sound like a contradiction..semantically speaking. Worry not; all will come together shortly)
Wait for it...
...Look! you did it!
You're done!
So. Thank-you all, whoever you are, which is perhaps a precious few But quite possibly no-one; ideally, i hope this goes-out to just one, similarly hearted, singularly unique and utterly lovely Somebody.
To that one unlikely body, seriously,
'thanks' buddy :)
OkSothank-you,Bye&TheEnd!
Also, Sorry if this was weird...
* •*.. abby*•.*